I drink regular pour-over coffee, black. It's all about the

In the words of Chris Wood, we find a meditation not only on taste, but on discipline, purity, and presence: “I drink regular pour-over coffee, black. It's all about the beans. I'm always stocked at home with single-origin coffees from around the world, never more than two weeks old, kept in airtight containers.” Though his words may seem the simple confession of a coffee enthusiast, they conceal a deeper philosophy — the ancient art of valuing essence over excess, of seeking truth in simplicity. For to drink one’s coffee black, to care for the freshness of the bean, to respect the process — this is to live with reverence for the small, the real, and the pure.

In his love for pour-over coffee, Chris Wood speaks of something much greater than beverage. The pour-over is slow, deliberate, ritualistic. It demands patience — the measured pour, the steady spiral, the quiet attention to aroma and bloom. It is the antithesis of hurry, the rebellion against thoughtless consumption. It teaches that beauty arises not from indulgence but from devotion. To drink it black is to strip away illusion — no sugar to sweeten, no milk to mask — only the raw truth of the bean, unguarded and complete. And so, in the humble act of brewing, there is hidden a lesson in mindfulness: that what is simple, when done with care, becomes sacred.

The beans, he says, are “all that matters.” In this, we hear the echo of ancient wisdom — that the foundation of any craft, any art, any life, must be tended with purity and purpose. The master carpenter knows his wood; the philosopher, his thought; the warrior, his sword. So too does the true coffee lover honor the bean — its origin, its age, its freshness. Each grain tells a story of soil, sun, and time. To keep them “never more than two weeks old” and “in airtight containers” is to preserve their integrity — a devotion to quality that mirrors how the wise preserve the purity of their thoughts, guarding them from decay. What he describes is not merely preference, but discipline, the sacred attention that separates habit from art.

The ancients practiced this same reverence in every craft. The Japanese tea ceremony, for example, transforms the making of tea into an act of grace and meditation. Every movement is intentional, every utensil honored. The tea itself is humble — powdered leaves and water — yet the ceremony elevates it into a spiritual experience. So too does Chris Wood’s approach to coffee remind us that excellence is born not from luxury, but from care. To pour coffee with awareness, to sip without distraction, is to reclaim the soul from the noise of haste. It is to practice gratitude for the earth and the hands that cultivated its gifts.

Yet beneath his words also lies a truth about authenticity. To drink coffee black is to embrace life as it is — unsweetened, unembellished, honest. Many seek to cover bitterness with comfort, to hide difficulty behind layers of distraction. But the one who learns to savor the bitterness finds wisdom in it. The philosopher Seneca wrote, “We suffer more in imagination than in reality.” In the same way, we often fear life’s rawness more than we should. To taste the bitterness of coffee and still find joy in its complexity is to learn the secret of acceptance — that life, like coffee, is richest when taken as it comes, unsoftened and real.

The origin of such a quote comes from a place of mindfulness and self-awareness. Chris Wood, like many modern artists and thinkers, embodies the spirit of those who understand that the smallest routines can be acts of meaning. His devotion to his beans, his containers, his rituals — it is not obsession, but reverence. In a world that rushes, he pauses; in a world that consumes, he curates. To live this way is to reclaim mastery over one’s habits, to treat even the simplest act — the morning cup — as a reflection of one’s values.

The lesson, then, is clear and enduring: live simply, but live deliberately. In every act, whether brewing coffee or speaking truth, seek authenticity and precision. Let no habit be thoughtless. Let no pleasure be rushed. Keep your “beans” — your thoughts, your friendships, your passions — fresh, unspoiled, and protected from the rot of neglect. Learn to love things in their purest form, not for what they hide, but for what they reveal.

So, my listener, remember the quiet wisdom in Chris Wood’s words. The way you make your coffee can reflect the way you live your life. Be present in your rituals. Choose quality over quantity, depth over distraction, simplicity over noise. For life, like coffee, is fleeting — and when you drink it slowly, attentively, and in its truest form, you find that what once seemed ordinary becomes sacred. In every pour, in every breath, let the simple become profound — and let the profound bring you home to yourself.